Some Things Never Change
by NoTimeToStop
Summary: Bo doesn't understand why things between him and Luke have changed. They've always been a team, so lately why did most of Luke's plans require the two of them to split up? Is his cousin getting tired of being around him? What explanation could Luke have for the apparent change? A one-shot set somewhere in seasons 6-7, post "Lulu's Gone Away."


_**This is a one-shot based on a trend I noticed – with much dissatisfaction – in seasons 6 & 7\. Luke seemed to become more prominent in action scenes than Bo, and they split up more often than ever before. This is my attempt to explain that change in a way that satisfies my Bo Duke-loving heart.**_

* * *

Something had changed. But Bo couldn't figure out what. He couldn't pinpoint causes, or even what it was that was different, but he could tell things weren't the same. He and Luke had always been a team. They did most everything together. And Luke had always been the first he would turn to in times of trouble – even before Uncle Jesse.

But lately Luke had been distancing himself from Bo. Their special Duke-cousin language, comprised of monosyllables – "Luke?" "Bo." – and facial expressions and gestures, had broken down. Bo found it difficult to read Luke. Or maybe the problem wasn't Bo's inability to interpret; maybe Luke was just communicating with him less.

They spent more time apart than they had since they both came to live with Jesse. Even when a new adventure came along, they would separate, when they should have stayed together. Luke had always been the one to devise the plans, and Bo was more than happy to follow his cousin's lead, but recently most of his plans required they split up. Luke would run off and play hero; he would use himself as bait and then end up fighting off all the baddies; he would thrust himself into the middle of the action, while Bo was relegated to errand-boy or sent off with Daisy and Uncle Jesse. He felt like Luke was stealing the excitement – and even the glory – for himself, leaving Bo to drive the General. Not that Bo minded being wheel-man. He was the better driver of the two – hell, he was probably the best driver in all Hazzard – but he had other skills too.

Bo worried that maybe he had done something wrong, screwed up one time too many. Maybe his cousin didn't believe in him anymore. Or worse. Maybe Luke just didn't want to be around him. Maybe Luke had out-grown Hazzard, and all of this was just the first step before he left the farm for good. Left Bo.

Bo's brow wrinkled. He tried to reassure himself that none of what he thought was true, that he and Luke were still, and would always be, blood brothers. But he couldn't quiet the fears. Afterall, he wasn't really Luke's brother. Why should he expect Luke to continue to stick by him? It wouldn't be long now before Luke tired of their adventures and headed off to make a name for himself – to establish the name of Luke Duke as a single entity, and not one half of the famed "Duke boys."

The evening was warm and golden. The setting sun bathed the world in glorious rays of colour that swept across the pale blue sky. There had never been a more beautiful sunset in Georgia, but Bo took no notice of it. He sat on the porch steps, looking down, fingering the blade of his knife. It had been a present from Luke on his thirteenth birthday. Luke had been wearing one on his side for years, and he believed that every teenage boy should have one. It was the kind of present an older brother would give his younger, and the knife had gotten him out of more scrapes than he could count.

The screen door opened and slammed shut behind him. Luke stood to his left and rested his arm against the wooden post. He gave a low, appreciative whistle as he observed the view. In that moment, he loved their farm more than ever. "Wow." Bo didn't look up. He didn't respond. He closed the knife and flicked it open again, several times.

"What's goin' on, Bo?"

"What?"

"You were real quiet at supper. And now ya're out here by yourself. Ain't like ya to keep your mouth shut for this long."

Bo bristled under the comment. Luke was always saying stuff like that, teasing mostly, sometimes when he was riled, and Bo would smirk and supply a sarcastic, good-humoured retort. But tonight the words hit a sore spot Bo hadn't known existed. Luke often directed those kind of remarks at him. Maybe there was some truth in what he said. Maybe Bo did talk too much, and maybe it got on Luke's nerves. Maybe those comments weren't just teasing; maybe they expressed something of what Luke really felt about him.

Luke saw Bo's shoulder muscles tense, but the blonde was silent. Luke raised an eyebrow. There must be something serious troubling Bo. He sat down beside his cousin and put a hand on his shoulder. "If this is about that Yankee girl who rejected ya, I wouldn't worry about it. Ya just ain't used to women with class. They'll be plenty more rejections where that came from," he joked, trying to lighten the mood, as he teased his baby cousin who attracted more girls than honey did bees. "Besides, her legs were too skinny."

"Why do ya always assume it's about girls?" Bo demanded, shrugging off Luke's hand.

"Because it usually is."

"What, cause it couldn't be anything else, cause I can't be serious? Can't think as deep as you can?"

Luke stared at him. He had no idea where this was coming from. Bo could be a hothead, but not without reason. "Bo, I was just kidding ya. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, alright? Now just leave me be." Bo stood abruptly, intending to storm off towards the barn. But he jerked up too quickly and lost his grip on the knife, which he had been in the process of flicking open. He dropped it, and as it tumbled from his hand, the blade cut into his palm and opened a nasty gash. Bo cursed and pulled his hand towards him, grabbing it with his other hand. "Ow."

"Let me see." Luke gingerly touched his finger's to Bo's hand, pulling back the long fingers that were already slick and wet with blood. He quickly examined the wound, and placing a hand on Bo's shoulder, steered him into the house. "We need to clean that up."

Daisy was at the sink washing the supper dishes. She gasped when she saw her baby cousin dripping blood on the clean kitchen floor. "Bo, what happened?"

"The fool was playing with his knife. Don't worry, Daisy. I'll take care of it. I don't think he needs stitches." Luke led Bo into the bathroom, cranked on the old taps, and shoved Bo's hand under the facet. Bo hissed as the water hit his palm. Once the cut was clean, Luke sat Bo down on the edge of the tub and started bandaging his hand.

Bo looked so sullen, his blonde hair tumbling onto his forehead and into his blue eyes, as he watched Luke, he looked more like a child than a twenty-something man. Luke couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"What's funny?"

"I was just thinkin' how familiar this is. Do ya remember that time you cut open your hand climbing over Mac Jackson's metal fence, when we was taking a shortcut to go fishin'?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"You was probably only seven or eight. That was a nasty cut. You did need stitches that time. I don't think I've ever seen ya bleed so much."

"You took off the t-shirt ya was wearing under your jacket, and wrapped it round my hand. Then ya carried me all the way home on your back, though my legs were just fine."

"Well, you was in pain, and you was crying so much –"

"More from seeing my own blood than the pain –"

"I wasn't gonna make ya walk home. Ya'd never have made it."

"Ya left all the fishin' gear right there in old Mr. Jackson's yard."

"I was more concerned about you."

"I know...Aunt Lavinia was some mad at me for jumping that fence."

"Ya was just following me."

Bo snorted. "That was my first mistake." Luke finished wrapping his hand and sat down next to him. Bo sighed. "I reckon I'd follow ya just about anywhere, if you wanted me to."

 _So,_ Luke thought, _that's what's bothering him._ "Why wouldn't I want you with me, Bo?" he asked. Bo hadn't meant to say anything about it – hadn't wanted Luke to think he was being silly, or to be running his mouth off as usual – but once he opened his lips, it all came rushing out, and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to.

For as long as he could remember, he and Luke had been a team. He did whatever his cousin did. When they were kids, he'd practically worshipped him. He, sometimes blindly, followed all of Luke's plans, without hesitation, doubt, or complaint. He trusted his cousin, and did whatever Luke asked of him. But he couldn't understand why lately Luke's plans always separated them. Didn't he trust him? If Luke didn't want his help, then he should just come out and say it. If he preferred to handle things without Bo, it would be nice if he just told him that. Then at least Bo would know. He would understand if Luke needed space. He didn't want Luke to become sick of him to the point of resentment. He didn't want his presence to be the thing that drove them apart, or drove Luke away from the farm, from Jesse and Daisy. And if Luke had lost confidence in him, he knew he messed up sometimes and was always stepping on twigs or pushing over things when they was sneaking around, but he would work on that. He'd get better. He just needed to know what to expect.

Luke clutched his knees and fixed his eyes on the bathroom tile as he listened to Bo. His cousin's voice was getting excited, and his speech picked up speed. When he had finished, Bo got quiet and still, and his shoulders slumped. They sat in silence for a time, and then Luke said, "Ya really are a dipstick."

"What?"

"Bo, why do you thinking I plan things the way I do?"

"I just explained that to ya."

"No, Bo. Think of Jackson's fence." Bo's face was blank, and Luke sighed. "Look, Bo, I don't go off on my own because I don't want ya around, or 'cause I don't think you can do something, or 'cause I wanna be some kinda lone hero. I do it 'cause I'm tryin' to keep you safe."

"Don't ya think I'm a bit old for ya to be worryin' 'bout me?"

"With your luck? I'll probably worry myself into an early grave. But listen, you remember when them fellas kidnapped Lulu?"

"Course I do." How could he forget?

"I left ya alone to find that trailer. I wasn't there with you, and those fellas..." Luke trailed off. He didn't need to remind Bo what had happened: how those thugs had knocked Bo out, tied him up, sent him careening down a hill at high speed in a shoddy trailer; how Luke had stopped the trailer, and discovered his cousin laying motionless, face-down, in a pile of stuff on the floor, and for a second had been terrified that Bo was dead; how Jesse, Roscoe, and Enos had caught up to them, and they'd all crowded around Bo, who was sore and slightly disoriented, and had a lump the size of a goose's egg on the back of his head, and they had feared he had sustained a concussion. They had been lucky that time, but Luke had realized how close he had come to losing his cousin. Bo could have died. Luke wouldn't chance it again.

That was why when they had to split up, Luke would go running headlong into dangerous situations. He had faith that Bo would be there for him if anything happened. He had a great deal of confidence in his cousin, and trusted him with his life without reluctance. And he would continue to put himself in danger whenever he needed to, if it meant that Bo would stay out of it. He would take the chance of getting hurt any day of the week, and twice on Sundays, rather than risk something happening to Bo.

Luke wasn't one to be sentimental, so he had some difficulty putting his explanation into words. He had taken for granted that Bo would know what he was thinking and feeling, would know what he was doing without having to be told. He thought it was clear that whatever he did he did for Bo's sake, and he would never have guessed that Bo would interpret his actions any differently, especially not as any desire in Luke to be away from him. Bo was his best friend.

Bo wanted to tell Luke that his reasoning was rather selfish, since it meant Bo had to worry about losing Luke, but he realized that it was what Luke had been doing Bo's entire life – taking care of him. And it was something that would never change.

"Thanks, Luke," Bo said. Luke clapped him on the back.

"I don't know what I'd do without ya, Bo. Now, we best be gettin' out there or Daisy'll think ya bled to death in here." Bo laughed and threw an arm around his cousin.

Maybe things weren't so different after all.

 **END**


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